Here´s the blended morning with soup for a sky.
Half sunny and cloudy, no z´s to sleep, no tears to cry.
Near midday in some dim kitchen tell me will you cook something as the afternoon consumes the rest of the day?
It´ll be all over soon like some semi sweet dream, stop and savour it one moment as time slips sneakily by it seems.
Get a mouthful of this traffic despite it´s evil´s, the flavour could be much worse.
The road´s so dry it could use some sauce. Or a drink to quench it´s thirst.
Your appointment didn´t arrive on the table, no steam no aroma just an empty eggshell.
You can search for tomorrow and install it like a cable, a machine but leave today where it fell.
And taste it, smell it, for it´s empty plates and dirty dishes still remain before the next dawn breaks.
The flavour fades like so many memories blocked out by your obsessions.
Taste this day.
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